


The Absolute Magnitude of Me and You

by normyoongi



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Cosmology, Drug Use, I love space stuff, alcohol use
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-12
Updated: 2018-06-12
Packaged: 2019-05-20 10:29:19
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,996
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14892915
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/normyoongi/pseuds/normyoongi
Summary: Probability is a concept that should involve no human interaction. No science nor anthropogenic action should manipulate the fate of an event.Tony knows this, and has vowed to leave the universe to deciding its own fate. Although, his powers begin to simmer when he falls head over heels for someone, and it is improbable he shares the same feelings.It's left for him to decide which is more important, his reality, or the strange guy that's made his way into Tony's heart.





	The Absolute Magnitude of Me and You

**Author's Note:**

> https://open.spotify.com/user/colorwayoongi/playlist/37Qav1brHiyKNhF83Wmqst?si=8Lc4v493Qqu8vuVwwCUJqQ

 

"Probability is the world's most complicated conviction. It is a single idea of something happening. It doesn't expound how something happens, or why. It's only concept is when and if.

It is quite simple if it is left as its own theory. When and if something happens, it happens - and that's that. It starts to get more complex once the "When and If" factors are altered.

Probability is not something to be manipulated. It onsets every event that follows. When the concept is operated by something, or someone, other than the fate that guides it, future events that should have followed are altered to another reality, and the original reality becomes corrupt - aberrant. People who once existed cease to exist, and things that had not existed before infiltrate a world in which they should not inhabit."

"So basically," Tony tossed the book back onto his desk, "Without all the complicated words, I have ruined Earth along with all of creation. How come they tell you about the repercussions after the incidents? It would've been nice to know that wanting an A on my test would result in someone's mother disappearing into thin air. Rhodey, what the hell do I do?"

Rhodey and Tony were opposites in the most similar way. They were both intelligent - Tony was slower to notice concepts, though. Rhodey was quick and sharp-witted, utilizing his ability to a greater extent. Tony was grateful for this, and most of his (good) decisions are due to his friend, "I don't know, Tony.  Just make the probability of everything going back to the way it should be one-hundred percent. That would _probably_ fix everything, right?"

\- - - -

Although Rhodey stands clueless, Tony remembers every word to that conversation. It's the reason Tony vowed to never use his discovered, and now unspoken, ability. There's no more confusion, no more Mandela Effects or any other phenomena that followed his little probability extravaganza. It's also the reason for his almost failing grades.

Tony never saw a reason to study for his classes. He's always obtained perfect scores on every test, of course, no thanks to his cerebrum. Every good thing that has ever happened to him was because of the tiny, unique part of his brain that could manipulate probability. Any normal teenager's major conflict is not doing drugs throughout their college career, or resisting the urge to drop every paid class they take. Tony had the privilege, as Rhodey used to put it, of being as far from a normal person as possible. He possessed the conflict of not fucking up people's reality with the smallest of decisions. Therefore, he was barely passing all of classes, thanks to constant caffeine infested all-nighters.

"Dude, you look like shit." Rhodey handed Tony his usual vanilla latte with a couple extra shots before they entered the class' assigned auditorium. The room was lined with seats and booklets covered in plastic, along with answer sheets organized by name. Soon enough, students would be focused on those booklets, rushing to fill in the bubble sheets, and Tony would be staring at the tiles on the ceiling aimlessly, waiting for some kind of acumen to magically write down the answers for him.

Tony took the coffee with more gratitude in his mind than he expressed, "You have the vocabulary beyond every dictionary on this campus, and you still choose to speak like the shit I look like. Well, I stayed up all night to study for this stupid exam so I can maybe pass it." Rhodey just laughed sympathetically and parted to find his seat. Tony did the same.

 

The exam was on abstract algebra. Tony cursed himself for taking the class, even the name sounded complicated. It was easy enough when he could just think of himself getting the right answer, and it'd happen. Now he actually had to work for it. Weird.

 The first question was one he remembered his professor performing as a so called easy warmup, "Show that if (G, ·) is a group of order 9, then G is abelian." He knew that this tied in with Isomorph-something... Or was it isotonicity? Even Tony didn't have to look into his probabilities of passing this exam to know it was below the absolute zero.

 

For the next three hours, Tony BS'd the rest of the exams and hoped for the best. Just hoped.

 

His only redemption of the his shitty day was the parties that followed the end of exams, probably more relief than celebration to most students. Tony dragged Rhodey to the three-hundreds hallway, his usual hangout spot post-exam. Rhodey wasn't much of a partier, and frankly, the only reason Tony enjoyed parties is because it provided a stress-free environment that also reminded him that everyone isn't perfect. He hung around the slightly buzzed group that vent about their problems like they're at a group therapy session, while Rhodey wandered off to god-knows-where. 

Faint music played through make-shift speakers. Tony didn't recognize the song, he figured it was because the phone owner was currently playing their stoner playlist. The fairy lights blurred into one big illumination, it made Tony feel like he was floating in space. Someone was taking their turn to release their tensions and troubles to the group, but the voice was indistinct, it sounded like a hushed murmur that was trying to blend in with the noise around it. Eventually, Tony closed his eyes and leaned on the couch and let himself get comfortable being lost in the room's clamor.

 

"Dude, come here." Tony opened his eyes to a cloudy silhouette of a guy shaking him. He made out dark brown, curly hair. He only scored a glance, because by the time Tony sat up, the brunette, blurry guy was making his way out the door. 

Tony was already well passed tipsy, so what else was there to say other than, "Fuck it."  He recognized the height of the man's brown hair, so he followed that, "I'm Stephen Strange, by the way. I'm a Junior, and applied to get my Medical Degree. It's kind of crazy considering I have to take seven more years of school just to fulfill the career I want, but I think it'll be worth it. I'm gonna be a neurosurgeon. You probably are getting none of this, but I'm talking just to assure you that you're not following some weirdo into a death trap. Also, we only have like five more minutes to walk."

Tony just nodded along. He didn't grasp much of the little monologue, but he did notice how the rushed tone made it sound like angels jingling around him. Or maybe that was just because he was drunk, and no angels were actually making an appearance. He tripped on a step up and grabbed onto the new Stephen's (surprisingly fit) shoulder to keep from falling over.

"Jesus, you're fucked up," Stephen mocked Tony's limp and stumbling stature, "Here, I heard being drunk and high is a fucking magical experience. These taste like shit, but eat them anyway." Tony had smoked plenty of times, but has never been doubly intoxicated at one time. Plus, he was starting to get a migraine, so he took the baggy out of Stephen's hand and willingly complied. The first handful made him gag, he focused entirely on not vomiting the entire contents of his stomach and ate another fist full.

New Stephen laughed at Tony's contorted face, "If you puke on my floor I'll kill you. I can't afford cleaning supplies, but we're at my dorm." He opened the door to an unexpectedly bare room. He didn't share a room, so there was one bed and one desk. The walls were a bleak beige and consisted of no posters or pictures. A coffee pot sat on the mini kitchen bar, and there were a couple dishes left in the sink. One would think the guy that paired a cherry red bomber with shoes the color of mustard would have at least some kind of decoration to his living space.

"Dude, you're so boring." Tony laughed at his own bluntness, but he couldn't form a longer sentence if he wanted to speak coherently.

Luckily, Stephen seemed to have some experience interpreting the meaning of short, drunk phrases, "Yeah. I don't stay in here for much more than studying and sleeping. Saves money. Okay," He sat on his bed and looked at Tony, "You're far from sober, correct?" 

Tony nodded his head, the back of his mind begged the question of why the guy that just introduced himself didn't want him to be sober for a conversation.

"All right, Stark. You've traveled back in time. Tell me how, when, and why," Stephen's expression hardened. He opened his hand and a green gas solidified into a glowing stone that was cracked almost entirely down the middle, "I'm the only person in this dimension that should be allowed to warp time. Where the hell did you come from?"

"Oh my god." Tony gaped at the stone. Even for someone that could control the world's probability, _conjuring magic was pretty fucking cool,_ "You're a wizard!"

Strange grunted. That was a word kids used when they saw a magic trick on television. He's no wizard, he's a Master of Mystic Arts. A Sorcerer. Anything that sounded cooler than the word  _wizard_. Stephen shook his head, irritated, "I'm not a wizard, douchebag. Answer me, and don't call me that again unless you want me to hurl you into the dark dimension and throw away the key."

Obviously that was a joke with fun intent, but Tony still took a few steps back. He had sobered up a significant amount since he walked in the door, "Um, I can warp probability, which I fucked up. Long story short, people started disappearing and the world started changing. I made the probability of everything being normal again one-hundred percent, and I got projected back to nineteen years old, which is how old I am now, nice to meet you." He winked at Strange. He missed the desk he meant to lean on, and plummeted to the floor, "God. That wasn't even a drunk thing. Don't you dare laugh, I'm clumsy,  _Strange_!"

Stephen finished chuckling at the man's embarrassment, "Right. Not to kill the mood, but you didn't fix anything." Tony watched his fingers create sparks as he conjured a perfect circle in the middle of the dorm room.

The circle wasn't fourth dimensional, but it held an entire other world. Tony walked around it, but it remained a flat, floating entity. He remembered studying the atomic structure of the human brain. The neurons cross over each other. They're what sends signals that remind the body to function. That is exactly what was on the other side of the circle. Neurons connected endlessly until they met one single end. One set broke and separated itself from the others.

"Now, this is the outside of the multiverse, which looks very similar to neurons in a human brain. Each connects to the other for continuous functionality. You see that one broken part?" He pointed to where Tony had already been staring, "That's our universe. We're disconnected from the rest because of a major clash in time and space.  _You_ traveled back in time before I could interfere, and it caused a metaphorical black hole in our continuum, so time is technically stopped compared to the rest of the multiverse. You need to go back, or our worlds will cease to exist in no time. Our universe will shrink into a vacuum."

Tony stood dumbfounded.

He thought he had fixed everything. Stephen Strange, a man that had just introduced himself and opened a portal to the outside of the multiverse in the middle of a college dorm room, was asking him to use something he'd buried and vowed to never use again. Then again, this guy seemed to know a little bit more about Minkowski Space than an everyday person. 

 


End file.
